


how you get the girl

by televangelists



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Episode: s07e22 Chosen, and they deserve a soft epilogue, faith and buffy are post series endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24489799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/televangelists/pseuds/televangelists
Summary: Faith is walking through the crooked streets of a dimly lit city in Italy with Buffy Summers by her side and neither of them are bleeding or dying or trying to kill each other, and that’s pretty much all she could ever have wanted from life.[Faith and Buffy, post Chosen.]
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers
Comments: 16
Kudos: 205





	how you get the girl

**Author's Note:**

> starting off june the right way with my favorite underrated girlfriends. happy pride month everyone

All your life you wait, and then it finally comes, and are you ready?

\- Anthony Doerr, from _All The Light We Cannot See_

Faith hates school buses. 

She hates their sickeningly bright yellow color. She hates their sticky, cracking leather seats. She hates their smudged and dirty windows that refuse to open more than halfway. 

She _especially_ hates when they break down on the side of the road.

She’s standing on a dusty highway somewhere between SoCal and New Mexico, and the hood of their school bus is pouring out a cloud of oily grey smoke. Faith sighs. This is just typical. Of course they’d pile into a school bus to escape being swallowed alive by the Hellmouth only to find out that they picked the one with engine troubles. 

Xander is trying to pull up the hood and Buffy is trying to call a tow truck, and Giles is hovering over their shoulders offering useless advice, but Faith just sits to wait it out. She’s got a feeling they won’t be going anywhere else in that yellow hunk of junk anytime soon.

“No dice,” Buffy says, shaking her cell phone. “Tow truck company said that they wouldn’t come all the way out here. Not worth their time, apparently.”

Giles takes off his glasses, polishes them like he always does when he’s aggravated. “Are you sure?”

Buffy holds out the phone. “I just spent ten minutes arguing with the guy. You wanna try it?”

Giles takes the phone from her and walks off to the other side of the road, and Buffy yanks open the doors of the bus. “Hey,” she calls to everyone inside. “We’re having some technical issues, so you may as well come on out and get some fresh air. Unless you want to sit in a cramped, smelly area for another three hours, in which case, be my guest.”

The Potentials and the rest of the Scooby gang exit the bus, chattering to each other loudly, and Buffy sits down on the edge of the road next to Faith. Faith tenses up a little, because she’s still not quite used to a Buffy who’s not actively trying to beat her up every time they come near each other.

“How are you?” Buffy asks. 

“Five by five, B. Feel like I should be askin’ you how _you’re_ feeling.”

Buffy looks away, and Faith kicks herself. Should have known better than to ask how she’s doing three hours after her boyfriend ( _boyfriend_?) sacrificed himself to close the Hellmouth and save the world. 

“Ya think we’ll be able to get this piece of shit working again?” Faith asks, nodding towards the bus, so that Buffy isn’t obligated to answer her first question.

“I don’t know,” Buffy says. “Xander’s working on it now, but he’s a carpenter, not an engineer. We might have to walk a little, see if we can find a town.”

“Fine,” Faith shrugs. “We’ve handled worse than a little walk.” 

“Principal Wood barely _can_ walk.” 

“So we’ll leave him here.” She’s only half joking. Ditching Wood wouldn’t be the nicest thing to do, but it would be the easiest way to get him off her back. He isn’t in the best shape right now, but Faith is sure that as soon as he recovers, he’ll be back on that “let me change your mind about men” bullshit. 

Sure, she’d agreed to it before they went into the Hellmouth, but only because she thought there was no way they’d actually survive. It isn’t like she actually cares about the man. There’s only one person who Faith would let try to change her mind about relationships, and she’s sitting right next to her.

Buffy looks at her curiously. “I thought you guys were…”

“Whatever you’re about to say, no. We’re not.” 

“Why? I mean, I was kind of grossed out when I first found out, but I think he really likes you.”

Faith pulls at a grass blade. “Guess it’s a one way street, then.” 

Buffy frowns. “Are you ever going to get over your ‘I don’t do relationships’ thing?”

 _Well,_ Faith wants to say, _I would if_ you _asked me to._ She’s saved from answering that loaded question when Xander motions for them to come over. They get up and dust themselves off, walking over to the bus.

“I can’t fix this,” Xander says. His shirt is stained with grease from the engine, and there’s a streak of it painted across his forehead. Faith laughs. 

“Think this is funny?” he asks, and Faith shakes her head. “Nah, you’ve just got a little somethin’ up here.”

Xander wipes at his forehead and looks at the grease in disgust before smearing it onto his shirt. Buffy frowns. “You can’t fix this at all? Not even for a couple more miles so we can find a place to stop?”

Xander shakes his head. “The engine’s totally cooked, and Giles isn’t having any more luck with the tow truck people than you were.” They turn to look at Giles, who’s shaking Buffy’s cell phone angrily and giving whoever’s on the other end of the line an earful about customer service. “He’s not so much with the British courtesy today.” 

“Don’t blame him,” Buffy mutters. “Fine. We’ll have to walk.”

Faith stares at her boots, imagining how bad they’ll look after marching through a sea of dust for a couple hours. “Hey, Will,” she calls over to Willow. “Come here a second.”

Willow walks over, and unfortunately Kennedy does too. Girl’s a total ball and chain, and Faith doesn’t envy Willow a tiny bit. “Yeah?”

“Can you do some kinda transport spell for us?” Faith asks. “The bus is fucked and I don’t know about you but I’m not trying to spend my entire night walking through the desert.”

Willow casts a doubtful eye at their group. “I don’t think so, not with this many people. Besides, where would we even go?”

“I don’t know,” Faith says irritably. “Anywhere but here. What kinda witch are you?”

“Hey,” Kennedy snaps. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Faith scowls. She has no idea what Red sees in this annoying chick. “Hey Junior, unless you’re willing to offer up your family’s Beverly Hills mansion to us, why don’t ya butt out and go back to the kiddie section?” She gestures to the baby Slayers, most of whom have settled down to rest in a scrubby patch of grass next to the bus.

“Our estate is in the Hamptons, not in Beverly Hills, and - ” 

“That’s it!” Willow exclaims, and Faith’s glad she interrupted, cause she’s half tempted to deck Kennedy here and now. “I could do a transport spell to your house, Kennedy.”

“Hold on,” Buffy frowns. “I thought you just said you couldn’t do it with this many people.”

“Yeah, but I think it’ll work going to Kennedy’s house cause like...” Willow blushes a little. “Pretty sure I can work out a spell that’ll take me to anywhere she calls home because we’re, you know.” 

Faith grimaces. This is why she thinks magic is dumb. Slayer strength is all the supernatural power that she needs, thank you very much.

Buffy nods. “Okay, you guys figure that out. Let us know when you have something.”

“Magic is such bullshit,” Faith says as they walk away.

Buffy shoots her a look. “You won’t be calling it bullshit when we get the hell out of dodge because of Willow’s spell.” 

“Yeah, to Junior’s house. I’m sorry, I mean _estate_.” Faith swats at the air. 

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Buffy admits. “But it’ll sure be better than here.”

Faith makes a face, but two hours later, when she’s standing on the lawn of the biggest and fanciest house she’s ever seen, she has to admit that it’s indefinitely better than the side of a road in bumfuck New Mexico.

//

Willow’s spell sets them neatly on a vast expanse of perfectly mowed, perfectly green grass overlooking a large body of water. Faith’s relieved that they arrived in one piece; she was half worried that they’d end up in tiny pieces floating around an alternate dimension or something. Her head is a little fuzzy from the magic, so she turns around in a circle trying to clear it, and then she sees the house, and all she can think is _goddamn_. 

The house is absolutely huge, and it looks like the home of a movie star or something. There are at least fifty windows just on the front side, and the door has honest to god marble columns in front of it. 

It kind of makes Faith hate Kennedy even more. 

“Wow,” Buffy says. “Perfect landing, Will.” Willow smiles proudly.

The baby Slayers are already starting towards the doors, so Faith follows them. “Hey, Junior,” she says, and Kennedy twitches irritably at the nickname. “Your parents gonna mind that thirty people are invading the property?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Kennedy says. “They’re probably not even here. This is our summer house.” 

Faith and Buffy look at each other, eyebrows raised. 

“Come on,” Kennedy says, clearly oblivious to what she’s just said. “We can sort out the bedrooms and stuff.” She takes Willow’s hand and starts walking up the lawn. Faith pretends to gag, and then ends up actually gagging a little bit. 

“You wanna kill her or should I?” Faith asks, once she’s stopped coughing. “We can split her money.”

Buffy gives her a stern look and Faith is second guessing the murder jokes - maybe three years later is still too soon - but then she laughs. “Let’s wait until she lets us inside, and then we’ll think about it.”

Faith nods and they follow Willow and Kennedy towards the house.

It’s even fancier inside, with lace curtains and handwoven rugs and marble staircases. All of the baby Slayers and most of the Scoobies are staring around at all the rich-person decor in awe, but Kennedy doesn’t even spare it a glance. _Rich people_.

“Bedrooms are that way, you guys can figure out who’s going where,’ she says, directing girls up the stairs. “Don’t even try to go inside the master bedroom, though.”

The baby Slayers disappear upstairs to claim their rooms, and Faith runs after them, because she’ll be damned if she’s sleeping in a room with other people tonight. Going from three years of prison to an overcrowded Summers household has made her really, _really_ want her own space, and she’s gonna get it at least for tonight even if she has to fight someone.

She gets her own room by encouraging (forcing) one of the baby Slayers to room with their friend instead, and throws herself down on the mattress to finally enjoy having a bed to herself.

She knows that she needed her own room badly, because she’s actually _happy_ that she’s in bed alone. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Faith groans - can’t a girl have a moment of peace? - but she gets up and opens it, just in case it’s important. (Just in case it’s Buffy.) 

But it’s Xander’s standing there instead, so Faith slams the door in his face before he even gets one word out. And then she gets in bed and sleeps.

//

It’s already late morning when Faith wakes up, and there’s bright sunlight pouring through the window because she forgot to shut the curtains before falling asleep. She gets out of bed, noting that she’s still a little sore from yesterday, and heads downstairs.

Buffy and the gang are sitting around a small wooden table in the kitchen - probably the servants’ table or something, Faith notes - and through the giant bay windows, she can see most of the baby Slayers hanging around on the lawn outside. There’s a stack of pizza boxes on the kitchen counter.

“Faith,” Giles says as she pulls out a chair and sits down next to Buffy. “You certainly slept late.”

“What can I say,” Faith says. “Gotta get my beauty sleep. We saved the world, I think I deserve my ten hours.”

Willow is tapping away on her computer, and Dawn passes Faith a plate of pizza before leaning over to look at the screen. “Ooh, that one looks nice.”

Faith takes a bite of pepperoni. “What are ya looking at there?”

“Trying to find a place to set up headquarters,” Buffy explains.

“Preferably a house with enough bedrooms this time,” Xander mutters. “My back wasn’t so happy with sleeping on the couch for a month.”

Willow turns her laptop towards them. “What about this one? It’s property of the Council but it hasn’t been used for a while, apparently.” 

The screen shows an aerial view of a large stone estate house made of sandy-colored stone, with vines wrapping around the walls. There’s a pool to the left of the house, and a sweeping lawn that leads down to a field of plants climbing up wooden posts. In the corner of the picture, there’s a grove of ancient looking trees. 

“I like it,” Buffy says. “Looks like there’d be plenty of room for everyone, right? And the trees mean we could do mixed terrain training.”

“It’s kinda cute,” Faith agrees, reaching for another slice of pizza.

“And come on, guys,” Dawn says excitedly. “There’s a _pool_.”

Faith takes another look at the house, idly wondering what kind of plants are growing in the field, and her eyes catch on the realtor’s description. “Wait, what language is this in?”

“Uh…” Willow frowns for a moment. “Italian?”

Faith drops her pizza. “We’re going to _Italy_?” 

Willow nods. “Might have to knock up some plane tickets, I don’t think the Watchers’ Council has enough money to send us all there.”

Giles frowns over the tops of his glasses. “Willow, we cannot use magic to forge dozens of plane tickets.”

“Well, not with that attitude…”

They’re still bickering when Wood walks into the kitchen. “Hey,” he says, and Faith looks away, trying to pretend that she doesn’t notice him. “Faith, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Faith curses him and the universe, in that order, but she can’t really refuse a direct request like that, so she sets down her pizza and gets up. 

//

“There’s a dock down by the bay,” Wood says, steering them in that direction. “I saw it from my bedroom window.”

“Weren’t too busy bleeding out, huh?”

Wood laughs. They’re standing on the dock now, and Faith stares out over the water to avoid having to look at Wood. She’s no stranger to cutting people off, but this time it’s different, because she genuinely feels bad about it.

“Last night, Giles asked if I’ll go to Cleveland and set up operations on the Hellmouth there,” Wood says finally. 

Faith nods. “And are you going to?”

“Yeah, I am,” Wood says. “But well, I was kind of wondering if you’d come with me.” He holds up a hand to stop Faith from speaking yet. “This isn’t just because I want a relationship, alright? It won’t be easy starting up a new operation in Cleveland, especially if I won’t have a Slayer there with me for a while. I could really use your talents, Faith.” 

Faith looks over at him and thinks about how simple it would be. Just another Hellmouth, and maybe even a relationship with a seemingly decent guy. Easy and relatively safe. 

But she’d have to leave Buffy, and that’s something that she never wants to do again, even if she’ll never admit it to her. 

“I can't,” Faith says, the words coming easily. 

Wood shakes his head, looking into the distance. “Guess I should have known better,” he says with a short laugh, and Faith feels an unfamiliar stab of guilt. 

“Look, Wood, you’re a great guy and all,” she says. “I just…”

“Nah, I get it,” Wood says. “The mission is what matters.” Faith nods, because that’s really all that needs to be said.

They stand there for another few moments, and then Wood sticks out his hand, and Faith shakes it. “Take care of yourself, alright, Faith? Maybe even find someone to change your mind.”

“I’ll sure as hell try,” Faith promises. “See you around.” Wood gives her an ironic salute and walks away, and Faith looks out over the water again. The sunlight sparkles on the surface of the bay like light shining onto a diamond.

“Hey.”

Faith turns to see Buffy standing there, shading her eyes against the sun. She nods towards Wood’s retreating figure. “Did he give you the Cleveland sales pitch?”

“Yeah, he did,” Faith admits. “But I wasn’t buying.”

“No?”

“Course not. You don’t think I’d let you train all the newbies by yourself, do ya? Gotta teach them _something_ worth learning.” 

Buffy waves off the comment. “Willow’s got the plane tickets. Giles isn’t happy about it, but we’re flying out later tonight. Better get packed.”

“I don’t have anything _to_ pack,” Faith says, but she starts towards the house with Buffy anyways. 

As they’re climbing the marble steps of the porch, Buffy nudges Faith in the ribs. “Hey, Faith? Thanks for turning him down. I’m - I’m glad that you’re staying. I really do need you to help me with training and...with everything.”

Faith smiles inwardly, basking in happiness. _Buffy needs her_. She’s dreamed about hearing those words from Buffy ever since she was seventeen. She has no idea how to explain how much this means to her, so she simply says, “No problem, B.” 

As they go inside, their arms brush, and Buffy doesn’t pull away.

//

Faith soon finds out that as bad as school buses are, planes are even worse. 

She’s disliked being on the plane from the second they boarded, and now that they’re taking off, she’s quietly losing her shit. She won’t let anyone see how badly she’s freaking out, because she’s Faith and she’s a badass and she _doesn’t_ freak out, but on the inside she’s screaming as the plane rattles down the takeoff strip and launches itself into the air like a fucking rocket to Mars.

“Fuck,” she mutters to herself, grabbing the armrest so hard that she hears something crack. The girl sitting next to her, Annie or Amanda or something like that, looks at her in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Back off, small fry,” Faith says through gritted teeth. “Just sit there and look at your damn inflight catalogue.”

Amanda looks offended but puts up her magazine to serve as a barrier between them. Faith closes her eyes and inhales deeply, wondering how the hell she’s going to put up with this for six hours. 

After a few minutes, the plane starts to level out, and Faith’s grip on the armrest slackens a little bit, but she’s still far from happy. If this is what it takes to get to Italy, she thinks they should have just stayed at Kennedy’s mansion. 

“Hey,” Buffy’s voice says, and Faith’s eyes fly open. “Are you using that armrest or trying to snap it off?”

Faith instantly whips her hand off of the armrest. “Neither. I’m not even touching it.” 

Buffy raises an eyebrow, watching as the plastic-coated handle of the armrest breaks off and falls to the floor of the plane. “Yeah, alright,” she says. Reaching over, she taps Amanda on the shoulder. “Hey Amanda, I need to switch seats with you, okay? I have some budget stuff to go over with Faith. My seat is F19. Thanks.” She pats Amanda’s head and slides past Faith to sit down. 

“What are you doing?” Faith asks, watching Amanda walk away with her catalogue still in hand. 

Buffy buckles her seatbelt. “Sitting next to you so that you don’t end up attacking the flight attendant or something.”

“My assaulting days are over, remember? Saving the attacks for the bad guys these days.” 

“Well, you already broke the armrest,” Buffy points out. “Just shut up and let me sit.” 

“Doesn’t look like you’re giving me a choice,” Faith says. “But I’m fine, alright? I don’t need you to hold my hand. It’s just a plane ride.”

The plane spins through a patch of clouds and suddenly drops, bouncing around like a mechanical bull (Faith has ridden a few of those before, so she knows what she’s talking about.) Faith gasps and grabs for Buffy’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“What were you just saying?” Buffy asks, her expression amused. She looks completely unbothered by the turbulence, and it’s infuriating. 

“Not another word, B,” Faith warns. “Or I’ll get up and switch seats so you’re stuck next to Andrew.”

Buffy doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t let go of Faith’s hand either, and Faith stops focusing on the rough plane ride.

//

They land in some Italian city - Faith doesn’t know the exact name but it sounds like some type of pasta - and pile into a broken down VW bus that looks like it’s been sitting in the junkyard for a decade. The air conditioner is busted, so Faith rolls down the window and lets the warm, dry air flow through the car as they leave the city and drive through the winding Italian countryside.

As far as Faith can tell, it’s a lot of grass and olive trees. And grape vines. Really pretty, though.

After about fifteen minutes, they finally pull up to a tiled driveway, and the driver lets them out at the bottom.

“Really?” Faith gripes as they walk up the drive.. “He couldn’ta driven us another hundred feet?”

Giles gets to the door first and pulls out a ring of ancient looking keys to unlock it. Faith pushes through the crowd and steps inside first, and she’s surprisingly charmed by what she sees. There’s a short hall leading into a living room with high, arching ceilings; beyond that, there are three sets of glass doors leading out onto a tiled terrace. A sweeping staircase is right in front of the door, leading up to the second story. It’s very large but it feels homey, unlike Kennedy’s shining white spotless mansion. 

“Okay,” Faith says. “I can dig this.”

“Glad it meets your standards,” Buffy mutters. “Xander, are you going to be able to replace those glass doors when they’re inevitably broken?”

“Should be,” Xander says. “Although someone else should probably do the drilling, since my depth perception is no longer...deep.” He gestures ruefully at his eye patch.

“Alright,” Buffy says, standing in front of the doors and waving vaguely at the living room. “Make yourselves at home, try not to get killed before we sort dinner out. Don’t go too far if you’re going to look around the property. That’s basically it. Will, Faith, Giles, Dawn, Xander, stay here because I want to talk to you for a moment.” 

The newbies disperse, chattering excitedly to themselves, and Faith settles down in an armchair to make herself comfortable. She notes, with some irritation, that Andrew and Kennedy both stayed, even though Buffy didn’t ask them to.

“I think this is going to be good,” Buffy says. “We’ll have enough rooms for now, but when more girls start coming in, we’ll probably have to double them up. Will, you might want to check the perimeter, set up some basic safety spells if you have the energy. Giles, you make sure that the Council knows to send new girls here now. Dawn, do you want to see if there’s anything here for dinner?”

Willow and Kennedy get up to go outside, and Faith can’t help throwing a jibe at them. “Hey, lovebirds, make sure you actually do some safety spells instead of just making out, okay?” Kennedy turns back angrily, and Faith just gives her a big shit-eating grin.

“There’s nothing in here but dried pasta,” Dawn yells from the kitchen. 

“Well, we _are_ in Italy,” Xander replies. “You think there’s any sauce?” He disappears into the kitchen to help Dawn. Andrew hurries after him, babbling something about being great at making spaghetti.

“You know,” Buffy says thoughtfully, “It’s really refreshing to only be worried about what’s for dinner.”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Faith says. “I give it a day before some weird shit happens.” The words are barely out of her mouth when they hear a bloodcurdling scream coming from the kitchen. 

Buffy frowns. “Are you guys okay in there?” she yells. 

“Don’t worry,” Dawn shouts back after a moment. “Andrew saw a spider and freaked out.” 

“God, he’s stupid,” Faith mutters. “We should have left him back in the States.” She leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. “Don’t wake me until dinner’s ready, okay?”

//

It takes some time and a whole lot of cleaning to get everything in order, but after a week they’re pretty well settled in. The kitchen cupboards are filled with food, the pool is uncovered and filtered, and the house is cleaner than it’s probably ever been before. For a short time, anyways; with that many people living there, it isn’t long before the floors are covered in dirt and water and spare stakes again. But Faith isn’t the one who has to clean it up, so she doesn’t care too much. 

A few new girls arrive, and Faith is usually the one who drives to the airport to pick them up. The Council gifted them a shitty VW van - the kind with five rows of seats and curtains in the back - and Faith is the only one besides Xander who can make it drive anywhere without it falling apart. There’s nothing like driving some teenage girl back to the house while making small talk about how many demons tried to kill her on the way to Italy. 

“Okay,” Buffy says at the breakfast table the next morning. “Now that everything’s pretty much set up, we should probably start up a training schedule and find a school for the newbies.” 

“Why are you worryin’ about school?” Faith asks, kicking her feet up onto the table. Buffy shoves them off with a reproving look. “It’s summer. Let the kiddies have vacation.” 

“Or we could forget about school,” Dawn says hopefully, pouring herself a bowl of cereal. “The Slayers don’t need an education, and I don’t either if I’m going to be a Watcher.” 

Faith frowns. “Isn’t the whole point of being a Watcher that you’re all academic and shit? Just look at G man. He’s basically an Oxford professor.” 

Dawn looks outraged. “You think I want to be like Giles when I’m a Watcher? Please. I’m at least going to _try_ to keep my sense of humor. And fashion.”

Buffy clears her throat. “If you’re done...I’m thinking we should have a training session today on the lawn.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Faith says. “I’m overdue for some headbusting.” 

“You don’t get to beat up the newbies, Faith.”

“Spoilsport.” 

//

“Okay,” Buffy says, pacing back and forth on the terrace. Faith stands next to her, looking down on the rows of girls assembled on the lawn, ready for training. Standing in front of them like this makes her feel like the evil leader in one of those nerdy superhero movies that Xander likes to watch. “I know that Kennedy ran you through the warm ups already, so I want you guys to break into pairs and practice some of the moves that you’ve learned. It’s been a few days, so I want to ease back into it. Make sure to spread out and try not to break any bones. Questions?”

One of the girls near the front raises her hand, and Faith squints at her. Kid looks like she’s barely fifteen - she swears they’re getting younger every day. “Yeah? What’s your question?”

“Um,” the girl says timidly. “Are you guys going to do a demonstration first?”

Buffy looks a little surprised. “Oh. I wasn’t planning on it, but…”

“Ah, come on, B,” Faith says. “Could be fun. It’s been a while since we’ve thrown down, anyway.” She’s happy to spar with Buffy - not only has it been too long since she’s fought anything, it’s also a welcome chance to get Buffy close to her. 

“Yeah, Buffy,” Kennedy says. “Give us a demonstration.” She eyes Faith and quirks an eyebrow in a way that says she’s totally wise to Faith’s ulterior motives. _Bitch_. 

“Alright then,” Buffy shrugs. “Never let it be said that I don’t do anything for you guys.” Without another word, she spins and throws a punch, and Faith is forced to duck quickly. 

“Hey, no fair,” Faith protests. “I wasn’t ready.” She backhands Buffy across the face, sending her falling back against a table. 

“See,” Buffy says in her instructor tone. “As Faith just demonstrated, you’ll never have warning.” She blocks Faith’s kick. “You have to be ready any moment.” She punches Faith in the chest. “If you’re not prepared for a fight, it might kill you.” 

“Less talking, B,” Faith grumbles, kicking her in the chest. “This is the first decent fight I’ve had since last week. Don’t ruin it by going into teacher mode.” 

“Faith, the whole point - ” _Punch._ “Of us sparring - ” _Kick._ “Is to teach them. I’m not doing it for my health.” 

Faith’s fist connects with Buffy’s face. “Well, that much is obvious.” She ducks Buffy’s left cross and stabs a hand into her chest. “Boom. You’d be staked if you were a vamp.” She turns to the crowd of girls. “See, it’s that easy. Slayer, vampire, dead vamp - ow!”

Buffy grabs her arm and flips her over her shoulder, kicking her away. “Not dead yet. Missed the heart.” 

“Okay, that’s it,” Faith mutters. She gets to her feet and charges Buffy, ducking her punch and dropping her with a right hook. Buffy goes down, sweeping her leg out to trip Faith up. They roll back and forth across the terrace, trading blows and banter, completely forgetting about the lesson.

“I think you’re a little rusty,” Buffy says, flipping herself to her feet. “Then again, you always were a little slow.” 

Faith snorts. “Please. If _you_ were any slower, you’d be going backwards.” She kicks Buffy in the stomach and hits her with an uppercut. Buffy responds with a left jab that has Faith seeing stars. She falls down, grabbing Buffy’s legs as she does so, and flips them over so that they’re both lying on the ground, Faith on top of Buffy and pinning her to the ground with an arm against her throat.

“Gotcha,” Faith says, suddenly hyper aware of the position that they’re in. If she was lying on anyone else like this, they’d probably already be halfway to the bedroom. Buffy shifts underneath her and Faith bites her lip - she can smell Buffy’s shampoo and it’s driving her insane.

“You always fought dirty,” Buffy says, her voice a little bit hoarse.

“Oh, please,” Faith says scornfully. “You like it.” 

She says it to get a rise out of Buffy, to mess with her the way she always does, but Buffy just takes a shallow breath instead of saying anything, and Faith swears that her pupils dilate a little bit. 

Fuck.

“Ahem,” Kennedy says, her loud and obnoxious voice cutting through the tension of the moment. “If you guys are done straddling each other, maybe we can get down to practicing now?” 

“Right,” Faith mumbles, reluctantly rolling off of Buffy and getting to her feet. She offers a hand to Buffy, who pretends not to see it. 

“Okay, guys, hopefully that demonstration helped,” Buffy says, and Faith is gratified to see that she’s a little red in the face. “So just break into pairs and do a little sparring. We’ll come around and give you some tips.”

“Yeah, it helped,” Kennedy mutters. “If you’re trying to teach them how to make a softcore porn tape.” 

Faith smacks her on the back of the head. “Shut up and get working, Junior.” She looks over at Buffy, wondering if she heard Kennedy’s comment, but Buffy’s expression isn’t giving anything away. 

“You got the rest of this one, B,” she says, walking away. She doesn’t have time for a training session anymore; she needs to take a cold shower more than she needs to correct some newbie’s fighting form.

//

The shower is on the coldest possible setting but it’s still not doing anything to cool Faith down. Her fight with Buffy keeps replaying in her head, over and over, and Faith can’t do anything to stop the hot rush of blood in her veins as she presses her forehead against the tiles of the wall and closes her eyes, imagining Buffy pinned underneath her again.

When her hand slips between her legs, she can’t even find it in herself to feel guilty. 

//

“So when are you going to do something about it?”

Faith cracks an eye open, and abruptly shuts it again when she sees who’s standing there. She’s lounging in the sun by the pool, her hair not even dry from her shower yet, and Kennedy’s somehow already tracked her down. 

“God, what is it with you?” she asks, irritated. “It’s like every time I don’t want you around, you somehow know it and show up just to annoy me.” 

Kennedy smirks at her. “When are you gonna do something about it?” she repeats.

“Something about what?”

“Uh, your thing for Buffy,” Kennedy says. “It’s totally obvious.” She takes a sip of smoothie from the glass that she’s holding, eyeing Faith smugly over the rim.

“Listen,” Faith says, holding her temper in check for once. “I know that you think you’ve got some kinda magical all-knowing gaydar, but that shit ain’t working on me. It may have done the job on Red, but you won’t get shit from me.”

Kennedy sips her smoothie again. “So you’re telling me that you’re _not_ secretly in love with her?”

That does it. Faith’s up and out of her chair in a flash, smacking Kennedy’s stupid drink out of her hands so hard that the glass shatters. “Listen, Junior. If you ever say anything like that again, I promise you’ll wish that a vamp kills you before I get to you.”

The smirk melts off Kennedy’s face, but Faith is already storming away. She’s had enough of being the good Slayer for today. 

//

The roads around the house are steep and sloping, winding around the hills, but Faith doesn’t stop running until her lungs are burning and her heart is pounding. Turns out that being in prison for three years ruins your wind, because she’s licked after a short twenty minutes. Slayer strength or not, she’s out of running shape. 

She slows to a walk on the way home, her thoughts moving faster than her feet

Okay, so Kennedy knows. Big deal. Not like Buffy ever listens to anything that comes out of the girl’s big, dumb mouth anyways. But if she tells Willow, that’s a different story. Willow would probably pass that on to Buffy, who’d definitely trust her best friend on something like this.

Buffy can’t find out. She’s only just started acting normal around Faith again, and Faith doesn’t want to do anything to ruin that. It’s not worth the risk. 

She pushes away the lingering thought - a hope, really - that maybe if Buffy knew, she wouldn’t freak out. Maybe she’d even feel the same way…

Yeah, right. Dream on, Lehane. Buffy Summers is straighter than a fucking yardstick. (About that tall, too.)

Faith starts running again, feeling her chest burn in protest. She’s not going to fuck it up with Buffy this time, no matter how much it sucks to keep her feelings hidden.

//

Buffy runs into her on the stairs late that night - literally runs right into her - and they’re pressed up against the wall together and Faith can hear Buffy’s heart beating, fast and loud. She reminds herself that she’s not going to fuck it up. Not, not, not.

“Oop,” Buffy says. “Sorry.” She smiles and it’s so cute that Faith feels all her defenses dropping. 

“Hey,” she says, keeping her voice steady. “Where’s the fire?” 

“I was coming to look for you, actually,” Buffy says. “I’m going into the city. After the training today, well. I want to find some vamps. Want to come?” 

“Yeah,” Faith says. “Is it just us going?” She silently prays that it is.

“Just us,” Buffy confirms. “This might sound kind of selfish, but I want to have a night for myself, you know? No newbies, no training, no lessons, just some good old fashioned ass kicking. And you, of course.” 

Faith pokes her teasingly. “Are you just asking me to come along because you can’t drive the van?"

Buffy looks offended. “No! Of course not. Maybe.” 

“Alright, whatever. Let’s roll.”

//

Even though it’s almost midnight, the streets of the city are still loud and crowded, and Faith has to circle through the blocks several times before finding a parking space in between a white Fiat and a red Prius. She thinks she might have bumped the Fiat when she pulled in, but whatever. It’s probably too dark for them to notice.

“So, what now?” she asks as they walk down the street. “You know where some vamps are?”

“Nah,” Buffy says, twirling a stake in her hand. “I think they’ll find us, you know? They’ll probably be really excited to see us. The Chosen Two in their town? That’s better than a Britney concert.” 

Faith grimaces. “Damn, and to think that I left my favorite autographs pen in my room.” 

Buffy laughs, the sound light and unrestrained, and gives Faith a gentle push. “Ah, you’ll figure something out.”

They keep walking, and Faith knows that they’re literally on their way to stake some vamps, but she can’t help thinking that it’s kind of romantic, the way the streets are flooded with soft light from the streetlights and the restaurants they pass have candles glowing in the windows and there’s a soft but distinct sound of jazzy music playing somewhere in the distance. 

She’s walking through the crooked streets of a dimly lit city in Italy with Buffy Summers by her side and neither of them are bleeding or dying or trying to kill each other, and that’s pretty much all she could ever have wanted from life.

It’s like Buffy’s reading her mind, because a moment later she says, “Isn’t it crazy that we’re here?”

Faith nods, not quite trusting herself to answer.

“I mean,” Buffy continues, “I never would have seen this happening a year ago. Or even a month ago. But now we’re here, and we’re making it work, and it’s _good_ , you know?”

“It is, yeah,” Faith agrees. So good. She really wishes that Buffy would stop making it sound like she’s talking about a relationship - her heart can only take so much. 

Buffy lapses into silence again, and they keep walking. They pass an open shop door and they’re suddenly hit with a wave of a delicious buttery, sugary smell.

“That smells amazing,” Buffy says, eyes wide. “Do you have any money?”

Faith laughs. “Yeah, I got a couple of those euro things. You want to stop?”

“ _Duh_.” 

The shop is tiny and surprisingly crowded for the lateness of the night, but Faith and Buffy finally make their way to the counter and point to the rack of fresh pastries on the shelf behind, holding up two fingers. Faith hands over a bunch of paper euros, and she really hopes that it’s the right amount, because she couldn’t tell you how much a euro was worth if her life depended on it.

“Oh my god,” Buffy says, biting into her pastry as soon as they’re back on the sidewalk. “This thing is amazing.”

Faith gestures to the curb outside a restaurant next door to the bakery. “Let’s sit. I don’t feel like walking and eating. Too late for multitasking.” 

They sit and eat their pastries while they listen to the muffled music pouring out of the restaurant’s speakers. Faith doesn’t recognize the song, but it sounds soft and a little bit sad, and the rhythm sounds like a heartbeat. 

“Alright,” Buffy says, finishing her last bite of food and crumpling up the paper that it was wrapped in. “Let’s go find some vamps.” Faith offers her a hand up, and this time Buffy accepts it. 

Fifteen minutes later, they’ve walked at least a mile around the city and have yet to see a single vamp. There aren’t even any sketchy looking strangers on the streets. Faith sighs as yet another well-dressed twenty-something girl and her group of friends spill out of a nearby bar and go off laughing into the night. 

“This blows,” she says in disgust. “What, are European vamps more polite than American ones or something? Or too busy clubbing to come out for a fight?”

Buffy tucks her stake into her back pocket. “Guess so. We should probably get back before it gets too late.”

As they’re walking back to where they left the van, Buffy seems loose and happy. She looks more at ease than Faith has seen her in weeks, free from the weight of responsibility. She looks as carefree as every other young person in the streets, not worried about anything in particular, just living.

It’s a good look on her, Faith thinks. 

“You know,” Buffy says. “We didn’t get to fight anything tonight, but it was still nice. Kind of peaceful. I guess you don’t need vamps to have a fun time.”

“Aw, man,” says a whiny voice behind her. “Don’t say that. You’ll hurt our feelings.”

Faith and Buffy turn as one to see half a dozen vamps standing in the street, fangs bared. They’re dressed in fancier clothes than one normally sees on vampires and their English is accented, but other than that, Italian vamps aren’t much different than American ones. 

“You want left?” Buffy asks. 

Faith cracks her knuckles. “Got it. You take right.” 

The lead vamp steps forward. “Imagine our surprise when we found out that the Slayers were in town. Killing you two will be so swe - ” That’s as far he gets before Faith’s elbow strikes him in the jaw, breaking it. Faith whips out a stake and stabs him in the chest, and he mutters what she assumes is Italian for “Oh, shit,” before he dissolves into dust.

Faith grins as she slams her fist into a second vamp’s face. She’s missed this - the rush of adrenaline, the burst of strength she feels as her hand connects with undead flesh and the vamp’s head snaps back with a loud cracking noise. By the sounds of it, Buffy’s having just as much fun. 

Within minutes, they’re down to one last vamp. He cowers in front of them, his bravado having disintegrated along with his friends. “Don’t kill me,” he says in an unconvincing whimper. 

Faith crosses her arms. “Hey, what do you think we are, monsters? We’ll let you run for it.” 

“Thanks,” he says, turning tail and sprinting down the street. Faith watches him go, then holds her hand out to Buffy. “May I?” 

Buffy hands her a stake and Faith hurls it down the street, watching as it spears the vamp in the back and sends him flying into dust. She turns to Buffy, making a show of wiping her hands off. “Good night, right?”

“Very good,” Buffy agrees. “Let’s go home.”

As they climb into the van together, Faith reflects on how nice it is to hear Buffy refer to the house as _home_. She really likes having a home with Buffy. 

_Jesus,_ she thinks. _Europe must be making me soft._

But she knows that’s not it, not really. It’s just Buffy.

//

It becomes a nightly ritual for them, driving into the city to hunt. Sometimes Buffy insists on bringing along a few of the girls, saying that it’s good practice for them.

(“They have to learn by doing, Faith. Shut up and drive the van.”) 

Faith doesn’t protest too much, because Buffy won’t listen most of the time, but she does make a point of trying to leave the girls behind any chance she gets. She feels a tiny bit bad for it but not really because, well, she’s not about to throw away time along with Buffy just to babysit a bunch of kids. 

//

Faith sprawls lazily against the steps of the terrace a few days later, watching idly as a couple of the newbies spar on the lawn. Their form isn’t the best, and as an instructor or whatever she should probably correct their mistakes, but she can’t be bothered. She’s content to sit where she is, soaking up the sun.

It still amazes her how pretty the property is. It’s like living inside a goddamn postcard, all green grass and dark olive trees and gently sloping hills in the distance. Faith hasn’t gotten used to it yet, but she’s sure that she will eventually. 

Then again, maybe she won’t. She’s not real great at getting used to beautiful things; after all, she’s still not used to Buffy.

The door opens and Willow steps out, carrying a pile of slightly worn-out, woven cloth bags in her arms. Faith looks up at her. “Hey, Will. What’s with the arts and crafts reject?”

“I’m going food shopping,” Willow explains, “and I actually wanted to know if you’d come along with me.”

Faith stares at her. “Me? Go shopping with you? Look, I get that I’m one of the only people who can drive that shit-heap of a car but Xander’s gotta be around here somewhere. He’ll probably carry the groceries and everything. Put those construction guy muscles to use.”

“Okay, I’m partly asking because I can’t get the engine to start,” Willow admits. “But, but also, I thought it would be fun! A kind of bonding experience for us.”

Faith figures there’s probably some kind of catch to this, but whatever. She’s got nothing better to do right now anyway. “Okay, but I’m not carrying any of those bags. They look like discarded pillowcases from a nursing home.”

They get into the van and drive down to the city, Faith rolling down the windows until the warm summery air is rushing through from both sides. Willow sits in the passenger seat, looking like she’s on the verge of starting a conversation but holding herself back from doing it. Faith’s okay with that; she’s never been big on small talk, and Willow can start downright babbling sometimes when she’s nervous.

Faith parks on the narrow street right in front of the supermarket. She doesn’t know how they managed to score such a good spot, but she suspects that Willow has something to do with it.

“Okay,” Willow says as they go inside, consulting her shopping list. “We need bread, eggs, milk, pasta, apples, vegetables...I think this says Fig Newtons, but it could also say Five Newt Eyes...damn, I shouldn’t have written this when I was in a hurry.”

“Let’s start with the bread,” Faith says, already starting for the baked goods section. She grabs two baguettes and points one at Willow like a sword. “Stick these in the bag, will ya?”

Willow bags the bread and Faith reaches for a box of cookies. Willow watches as she shakes each container to see which one has the most inside. “Hey, Faith?”

“Yeah?”  
  
“Can I talk to you about something? It’s uh, it’s about Buffy.”

Faith lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Kennedy told you, didn’t she. That little rat.”

Willow shakes her head. “No, she didn’t, actually. I can kind of just tell. You look at Buffy the way I looked at - ” 

Faith’s really not in the mood to hear about Willow being in love with Kennedy, so she cuts her off. “Listen Will, I really don’t want to listen to your I-love-Kennedy speech, okay? B and I are friends now and I’m fine with that, I don’t - ” 

“Actually,” Willow says quietly. “I was going to say, you look at her the way I looked at Tara. Used to look at Tara.” 

That gets Faith’s attention, and she sets down the cookies and looks at Willow. She looks sadder than Faith’s ever seen her.

“That’s your girl from college, right?” Faith asks. She remembers seeing her once, through Buffy’s eyes back when the whole body swap thing went down. 

Willow nods. “Don’t get me wrong, Kennedy’s amazing... ” 

“ _That’s_ a matter of opinion,” Faith mumbles.

“...but Tara, well, she was the love of my life.”

Faith feels like the air is being pulled right out of her lungs. “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Willow says, offering her a soft, sad smile. “So when I see you looking at Buffy like that, well. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m talking about.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Faith says, desperately trying to hold onto some control in this conversation. “I didn’t say anything about ‘being in love’ or ‘love of my life’ or anything like that.”

“You don’t have to,” Willow says simply. “I already know.”

Faith sighs. “Okay well, what do you want me to do with this? B’s never going to like me the way I like her, and I’m okay with that. I will be someday, anyway. We’re friends now, and I don’t wanna fuck that up with her. You get that, right?”

Willow holds up a hand. “Listen for a minute, okay?”

Surprising herself, Faith nods and stops talking. 

“Look,” Willow says. “Back in Sunnydale, when you first showed up, I used to think you were terrible for her. I would worry about it, but she always told me that it was fine, that you were good. And then you, you know, went psycho and started killing people, and...and then stole her body and slept with her boyfriend, and then went to prison, and then she started sleeping with Spike, who was never her boyfriend by the way…”

“Okay, is there like, a point to this or are you just doing a little refresher on modern history here?” Faith asks, grimacing at Willow’s blunt recounting of every fucked up thing she’s done. She does take one small bit of comfort from what Willow’s saying, though - Spike _wasn’t_ Buffy's boyfriend. Ever.

“The _point_ is, I used to think you were pretty much the worst person possible.” Faith grimaces again, but Willow keeps talking. “But now, well, Buffy tried to kill us last year. I went all evil and flayed a guy alive and...and tried to destroy the world. What I’m saying is, we all deserve a second chance, and I think you have one with Buffy.” 

Faith takes a deep breath, her mind whirling between hope and logic and _Buffy_ , wondering if what Willow’s saying could possibly be true. 

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it could happen.” Willow says. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Ya know,” Faith says. “Of all the things that I thought might happen today, you trying to be my wingwoman was not on the list.”

Willow grins. “Speaking of lists, we should probably finish the shopping. If you go find the pasta and eggs, I’ll get the fruits and vegetables.”

“Got it,” Faith says, welcoming a chance to get away from Willow and think in private for a moment. 

“Faith?” Willow says, as Faith starts to walk away. “Don’t tell Kennedy, okay?”

“You got it, Will.” 

//

Xander finally finishes furnishing the basement, and Faith skips breakfast the next morning to go down and try out the new punching bags. There’s a pretty impressive setup, with mats and padded walls and racks of weapons lining one wall, but Faith doesn’t spare the rest of the room more than a couple of glances before heading for one of the heavy bags hanging from the corner of the ceiling.

She wraps her hands and then starts pounding the bag, throwing lefts and rights in no real pattern, just welcoming the familiar rhythm of the punches. 

She thinks back to prison, where the one moldy punching bag in the rec room had snapped off its chain and never been replaced, forcing her to beat up the walls of her cell instead. Hadn’t been the smartest move, and she’d paid in blood and a couple sprained fingers, but she’d had to stay in fighting shape somehow. 

_Oh yeah,_ Faith thinks, slamming the shiny new bag with a flurry of fast hits, _now_ this _is the life._

The basement door slams shut and Faith loses concentration, looking up to see Buffy standing on the stairs. 

“Oh,” Buffy says. “Sorry. Didn’t think anyone would be down here this early.” 

Faith flashes her a smile. “You never heard that punching bags are the most important meal of the day? Plus, there’s no Frosted Flakes left. Breakfast ain’t even worth it.”

Buffy walks down the rest of the steps, looking around at the basement. “Xander did a pretty good job here. Feels just like the Magic Box, only better. And not sitting right next to a truckload of spell ingredients.” 

“Beats the prison rec room for sure,” Faith agrees. “Forget the fancy stuff, you wanna go a couple rounds with me? Break the room in right?” She doesn’t realize the double entendre in her phrasing until Buffy blushes.

“Alright,” Buffy says, shrugging and cracking her knuckles. “Why not.” She steps up to Faith, and they circle each other for a few moments before Faith throws the first punch, clipping Buffy on the cheek.

Buffy kicks her away, and Faith uses the momentum to do a backwards roll onto her feet again before hitting Buffy with a left shot. Buffy isn’t fazed, punching Faith back with a right hook. They match each other blow for blow, equal in skill and strength, perfectly complementing each other. 

“You’re getting better at that,” Buffy comments as Faith slips past her guard and lands a punch to her stomach. “You never used to look for the openings that well.”

“I know,” Faith says, ducking Buffy’s backhanded swing. “Guess I’m like a fine wine, just improving with age.” 

Buffy snorts. “You’d never drink wine.” She kicks Faith’s fist away from her face.

“Who knows,” Faith says, jabbing her in the ribs. “We’re in Italy now. When in Rome…” She dodges Buffy’s one-two punches and grabs the front of her shirt, slamming her against the basement wall and pinning her arms by her sides. Then she stops for a moment, remembering when she had Buffy pinned to a wall in a different time and a different place. 

Buffy’s eyes drop to Faith’s mouth, just like they did the first time that Faith ever pushed Buffy up against a wall, and god, it would just take the tiniest lean in…

The basement door slams again and Faith jumps away from Buffy, almost colliding with the punching bag in her hurry. 

“Faith, Buffy, are you down here?” Xander’s voice calls. “Giles has news for you guys.” 

Buffy pushes off the wall, smoothing the wrinkles out of her shirt. “Guess we’d better get upstairs. Let’s take a rain check on what we were just doing.” She hustles up the stairs, leaving Faith to follow after and wonder if Buffy was talking about the fight or the other thing. 

//

“So lemme get this straight,” Faith says, leaning back in her chair and putting her feet up on the table. Buffy pushes them off again. “You want us to go to Venice?”

Giles nods, polishing his glasses. “The Coven located there has informed me that a girl disappeared there while trying to get to us. They suspect that demons may have kidnapped her, but they determined that she is still alive via a scanning spell.” 

Buffy frowns. “So why can’t they just rescue her and send her along? In fact, why doesn’t she rescue herself?”

“The Venice Coven is traditionally non-violent, and works spells of healing or prophecy only. The girl in question is too young to effectively utilize her powers.” 

“Well, that’s just great,” Faith says, slapping her hand against the table. “Guess we’re going to Venice.”

Buffy turns to Willow. “Will, are you coming with us? We’ll need you to work a locator spell.” 

Willow nods. “I’ll get some supplies together.”

“I’ll come too,” Kennedy says, and oh man, Faith wants to kick her in the face so bad. “Hey Junior, sit your ass down. We don’t need you on this one. Stick around here and make sure no one dies or sets themselves on fire or anything.” 

“She’s right,” Buffy says as Kennedy starts to object. “You’re staying here, Kennedy.” 

Andrew opens his mouth and Faith freezes him with a look. “No.” 

“Okay, okay,” he says dejectedly. “I’ll just stay here and cook another hundred pots of spaghetti.”

“I’ll come,” Dawn offers. “I’ve always wanted to see the Venetian canals. Plus, you might need an expert researcher on the scene.

“We already have Willow,” Buffy argues. “Plus, we don’t know what we’re up against here. It could be dangerous.”

Dawn waves dismissively. “It’s always dangerous. Come on, Buffy. You told me you wanted to show me the world, remember? Where could be a better place to start than Venice?”

Buffy hesitates for a moment, then sighs and nods. “Fine. You can come. Don’t get killed.” 

“You can take the train in the city,” Giles says. “There’s one that leaves at noon. You should be ready by then.” 

As Faith gets up to go pack a bag, it hits her - she’s going to Venice. With Buffy. 

(And Buffy’s best friend and her little sister, but still. _Venice_ . With _Buffy_.)

She’s so not ready for this.

//

The train taking them up to Venice is large, spacious, and well-lit, with clean windows and tasteful posters on the inside. It’s nothing like the cramped and dirty T back in Boston, and Faith knows which one she prefers. 

She and Buffy are sitting on one side of the carriage and Willow and Dawn are sitting on the other, facing them. Dawn is stretched over three seats, fast asleep with her head resting on Willow’s legs. Faith’s just grateful that she’s not the one being used as a pillow; when Dawn sleeps, it’s like she turns into a hunk of rock. Solid, and also heavy.

Faith elbows Buffy. “Did Giles give you any more details? Where exactly we’re going, what this girl looks like, anything?”

“Her name is Emma. I don’t really know what she looks like, but Willow will be able to locate her fine.” Buffy looks pretty relaxed, so Faith doesn’t worry about it too much.

They sit together in contented silence for a while. Faith doesn’t mean to close her eyes, but the sun coming in the window is warm and the motion of the train is soothing, and soon she can’t stop herself from drifting off into sleep. 

(When she wakes up a few hours later, it’s with her head on Buffy's shoulder. “I didn’t want to wake you up,” Buffy explains. “You’re less annoying when you’re asleep.” 

Faith just smiles.)

//

Their hotel is a large yellow stone building overlooking the canal, with brass-railing balconies and large window boxes filled with pink and red flowers. They rent two rooms on the top floor, and Dawn immediately claims the one with a built-in Jacuzzi. 

“Come on, Will,” she says, jumping up and down on one of the beds. “I don’t want to share with Buffy, she snores.” Willow laughs and follows her into the room, and Faith and Buffy are left standing next to each other in the hallway.

“Guess we’re roommates, then,” Buffy says.

“Guess so,” Faith agrees, smiling slightly. 

She’s a little disappointed when they get to their room and she sees that there are two beds there, too.

//

They eat a late lunch at a sun-drenched café down the street from the hotel and then gather on the balcony outside of Willow and Dawn’s room. Willow sets up some herbs and candles, and starts working a locator spell.

“Not gonna lie,” Faith says. “I always thought that you had to work this spell shit in the dark, all mysterious-like.”

Buffy rolls her eyes and shushes her as Willow closes her eyes and the herbs start to rise off the table. Willow mumbles a string of Latin words under her breath and the candles flicker as the herbs rise up off the table and start to form a circle in the air. Faith watches, half interested and half spooked, as one leaf floats into the middle of the circle and settles near the left side. 

Willow opens her eyes again, letting the herbs drop back to the table. “Buffy, there’s something up here. The locator spell isn’t working properly.” 

Faith indicates the air where the herbs had just been flying around like moths. “Looked okay to me.”

Willow shakes her head. “I could see the locator traces, but they didn’t focus on one specific place. They spread out all over the city, like I could see where they’ve gone, but I couldn’t hone in on where they are now.” She frowns, picking up a few of the herbs. “This shouldn’t have happened. This spell always works.” 

“Well, we know they’re within the city, anyways,” Buffy says. “That’s good enough for now. Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” 

Faith perks up. “Demon bar?”

“Demon bar.”

“ _Hell_ yes. Drinks are on you.” 

//

Faith and Buffy walk into the local demon bar at 10:30 that night, armed with stakes and knives and, in Faith’s case, leather shorts. She figures that since she’s got it, she may as well flaunt it. Plus, she kind of enjoys the way that Buffy keeps glancing at her legs and then quickly looking away, pretending that she’s not. 

The bar is full of chattering demons, including at least twenty vamps, and Faith feels her fingers itching for a quick stake, but she holds back. They’re there for information, not a fight. For now.

Buffy stops in front of the counter, staring at the barkeep - a tall demon with some kind of red horn poking out of his forehead. “We’re here to ask some questions,” she says, and the bar goes silent.

“Well, well,” the bartender demon says, his English heavily accented. “We’d heard that the Slayers were in Italy these days, but we hardly believed it. Two Slayers walk into a bar in Italy...sounds like the beginning of a joke, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, the joke will be on you if you don’t start talkin’ soon,” Faith says, leaning against the counter. “There’s a new Slayer in town here, a young girl. Grabbed by a demon on her way to us. You know anything about that?” 

The barkeep taps the counter thoughtfully. “I might. Perhaps you could jog my memory somehow.” He holds out a hand, clearly looking for money. Buffy looks at Faith and nods, and Faith grins. She loves it when her violent tendencies are encouraged, even if Buffy did tell her no bloodshed to begin with.

Faith whips out two knives and stabs them into the counter, one on each side of the demon’s hand, a hair's breadth from his skin. “That enough jogging for you, unicorn man? Next time I won’t miss on purpose.”

“Okay, okay,” the demon babbles. “The girl is in the hands of a demon named Antonio. Nasty guy, he’ll do anything to make a euro. I don’t know where they are right now, but he’ll be bringing her down the Canale Grande tomorrow night to sell her to a nest of vamps.” 

“Alright,” Faith says, yanking her knives out of the wood and stashing them back in their holders. “If this turns out to be false info, we’ll be back.” 

“It’s not, it’s not,” the demon assures them. He’s talking to Faith and Buffy’s backs; they’re already halfway out the door.

“Well, what now?” Faith asks as they walk down the street. “We wait?”

“Guess so,” Buffy says. “I’m thinking we go sightseeing on the Grand Canal tomorrow night. We can do a stakeout.”

“You mean the watching kind, not the staking kind, right?”

“Right. To start with, anyway.”

“Boring,” Faith sighs.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Buffy says, nudging her. “I’m sure you’ll make it interesting for me.” She winks, and Faith’s heart is racing. She can’t tell if Buffy knows the effect she’s having, but she really hopes that she’s not just messing with her. She’s okay with Buffy not liking her (at least, she tells herself that she is) but she’s not sure she can handle being given false hope.

“So are we going back to the hotel now?” she asks, quickening her stride a little bit. Buffy starts walking faster to keep up. 

“Come on, now,” Buffy says. “Are you telling me that you want to call it a night already? That doesn’t sound like the Faith I know.”

 _And which Faith is that_ ? Faith wants to ask. Out loud, she says “Okay then, where do you want to go?”

//

The building is low and long, multi-colored strobe lights flashing from the windows, and even from a block away, Faith can hear the pounding bass of the speakers. She raises an eyebrow. “You wanna go to a club, huh? Well aren’t you just full of surprises tonight.”

Buffy shrugs. “I miss the Bronze,” she admits. “And come on, I think it’ll be fun to just cut loose for a night.”

Faith bites her lip automatically when she hears that, wondering exactly how loose Buffy is talking. 

They reach the door and Buffy slips the bouncer a handful of euros, grabbing Faith by the arm and dragging her into the club. The music is blaring and the lights are blinding, and they make their way to the dance floor as green and blue strobes flicker across the ceiling. 

“You don’t want a drink or anything?” Faith yells, and Buffy shakes her head. “Just dance with me,” she yells back, and okay, Faith is more than happy to do that.

They start dancing and Faith no longer cares that the music is some kind of screaming Italian electro pop, because Buffy’s right there in front of her, on top of her even, dancing like they’re seventeen again, dancing like they did that one night in the Bronze when Faith wanted nothing more than to pull Buffy into the shadows and press her up against the wall.

Faith pulls Buffy in even closer, praying that if this is a dream, she doesn’t wake up. Buffy’s so close and so hot and Faith feels like she’s on fire. Buffy says something, but Faith can’t hear it. 

“What?” she yells.

“I’m right here,” Buffy repeats, and Faith doesn’t know what she means by that but it’s true. Buffy’s right there, so close, hands on Faith’s waist, face near Faith’s face, and Faith knows that she can’t hold back much longer. 

(In her head, she’s already got Buffy pinned to a bed, naked from the waist down and moaning Faith’s name.)

Buffy looks at her in a way that makes Faith’s knees weak, and she almost looks like she’s leaning in a little. Faith leans in too, slowly, not wanting to scare Buffy off when she’s this close to getting what she wants. Their lips are so close and Faith’s hand is under the edge of Buffy’s shirt and fucking hell, they’re going to kiss. Faith closes her eyes to savor the moment, because she’s been dreaming of this for four years, and suddenly Buffy’s pulling back, shouting something to her and then grabbing her hand and dragging her off the dance floor.

“What’s happening?” Faith asks when they’re in a slightly quieter area, her skin still burning from how close they’d just been. “Why did you - ” _why did you stop please just come back and kiss me I can’t wait for another four years I can’t even wait for another four minutes._

“It’s Willow,” Buffy says loudly. “She needs us to come back.”

Faith frowns. “How do you know?” she yells. 

Buffy gestures towards her head. “She sent me a message telepathically, it’s part of this spell she set up for me and her and Xander once. They need us back at the hotel.”

“Okay,” Faith says, calming herself down, picturing herself sliding into an ice cold pool, using the meditation techniques she learned in prison. It’s just about enough to keep her from punching a hole in the wall from frustration. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

They set off for the hotel at a run, and Faith thinks that if something hasn’t attacked Willow, she’ll do the job herself once they get back.

//

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Buffy says, flinging open the room of Willow and Dawn’s room. Faith skids to a stop to avoid running into Buffy’s back, then leans against the wall to catch her breath.

Willow, who’s sitting on the bed next to Dawn, nods to the chair in the corner, and it’s only then that Faith notices the older brunette woman sitting there. Faith’s never seen her before, but hates her on sight if only because she’s clearly the reason that Willow called them back.

“The leader of the Venice Coven came to visit,” Willow says. “She wanted to talk to you guys.”

Faith runs a hand through her hair in frustration, fighting the urge to ask the stupid woman why Willow hadn’t been good enough. Surely Willow has more to say to this Coven leader - witch stuff and all that - than Faith or Buffy ever would.

Buffy nods courteously to the woman. “Hi. I’m Buffy Summers. And you are?...”

“Florentia Marcelli,” the woman says in a pompous tone. “Leader and High Wicca of the Venetian Sisterhood. And I have a warning to give you.”

“A warning, huh,” Faith says. “Well spit it out, then.” Willow shoots her a warning look but she waves it off, cause she could take this woman any day. Besides, didn’t Giles say that the Venetian Coven was non-violent?

The woman looks at her like she’s a speck of dirt. “Yes, Slayer. A _warning_. We know what happened in your old town Sunnyvale.” 

“Sunny _dale_ ,” Buffy corrects her.  
“No matter. I know that you caused the ground to swallow the town whole. I would have you know that if you cause anything like that to happen during your stay in Venice, we shall be forced to break our vow of nonviolence and forcefully intervene.” She smiles smugly, and Buffy, Faith, Dawn, and Willow exchange looks like _what is this lady talking about._

Faith feels a laugh rising in her throat, and she doesn’t bother trying to suppress it. “Will, I can’t believe you called us back for this. We seriously had to cut short our night out so that this old bat could threaten us with all of her non-existent power?” The woman’s face turns from smug to affronted, but Faith isn’t done. “Listen Florrie, we’ll be gone by the end of the week, so don’t sweat over us. But even if we do sink your city, it’s not like it wasn’t coming. I mean, have you _seen_ the canals?”

“I will be sending complaints to your Watcher,” Florentia starts to say, and Willow rolls her eyes. “Bored now,” she says, flicking her fingers, and the woman disappears in a cloud of yellow dust.

Dawn jumps off the bed. “Where’d she go?”

“Sweet, Will,” Faith laughs. “You dusted her?”

“No!” Willow says indignantly. “I just teleported her away. Witch things. Sorry, guys. I thought she had something actually important to say.” 

“God,” Buffy says. “That lady would get along well with Wesley.”

“Hey, now. Wesley ain’t half bad anymore. He’s way over the prissy Brit phase, anyways.” Faith stops leaning on the door and gets ready to go back to her room. “Anyways, if the excitement is over, I need to go take a shower.” 

A really, really cold shower.

//

Faith emerges from her shower cooler but not satisfied; she hadn’t felt safe jerking one out, knowing that Buffy was just on the other side of the wall and could probably hear her without even trying. She throws on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and goes back into the room.

Buffy’s not there, and Faith looks around for a moment before seeing her familiar figure sitting in one of the chairs on the balcony. Faith steps over the threshold of the open door to join her. 

“Nice night,” Faith says, sitting down in a chair next to her. Buffy just nods, her gaze fixed firmly on the sky above them. Faith looks over at her, taking in her sharp jawline and bright eyes and thoughtful expression, and then looks up at the sky too. 

“I can’t see the stars that well,” Buffy says. “Light pollution from the city, I guess. Back in Sunnydale, we could see all the constellations sometimes.”

Faith nods. She remembers being back there after she broke out of prison, standing in Buffy’s yard and looking up at the night sky while the Potentials argued inside. 

“I know this is stupid,” Buffy says. “But when Florentia mentioned Sunnydale, it made me feel...I don’t know. A little nostalgic. It’s probably stupid for me to miss that place at all, since it tried to kill us almost every day for years, but I don’t know. I kind of miss it, a little.”

“Nah, It’s not stupid,” Faith says, picturing Sunnydale. She thinks about Buffy’s house, the graveyard, the Bronze, running through the streets with Buffy at seventeen years old and feeling like all their problems would end as soon as they found a vampire or two to stake. “I know how you feel, B.”

Buffy leans back a little and lets her head rest against Faith’s and the two of them sit there together, supported by each other, watching the dim light of the stars.

//

Faith sleeps like a rock, and she only wakes up because someone is shaking her. 

“Go away,” she mumbles, rolling over. She can vaguely hear Buffy’s sleepy voice on the other side of the room, and she opens one eye to see what’s going on. Dawn is hovering over her, looking impatient as she puts her hands on Faith’s side to shake her again.

“Alright, alright,” Faith sighs, swatting Dawn’s hands off of her. “What’s up, Dawnie?”

“Get up,” Dawn says, her voice way too peppy for whatever time in the morning it is. “This is probably the last day we’ll have in Venice, so I want to make the most of it. Let’s go.” She moves over to Buffy’s bed and starts poking at her.

“Okay,” Faith says. “Just give us like, twenty minutes to get dressed and stuff.”

“Ten,” Dawn counters. “And I’ll be counting.” She skips out of the room, slamming the door behind her, and Faith sits up in bed and throws one of her pillows at Buffy.

“Ow,” Buffy says, her voice muffled by the covers that she pulled over her head to shield herself from Dawn. “What was that for?”

“It’s your wakeup call,” Faith replies. “Your pipsqueak sister is gonna be back in here if we don’t motor, and I don’t wanna deal with whatever sadistic new idea she comes up with to get us out of bed.” 

The lump of covers sighs loudly, and a minute later Buffy’s tousled head pops out from under the sheet. “I knew I was right for wanting to disown her two years ago.” 

Faith drags herself to the bathroom and gets dressed, then brushes her teeth with one of the free hotel toothbrushes. When she gets back to the room, Buffy is stripping and pulling on a clean shirt, apparently too tired to care if Faith sees. And oh, Faith _sees_. She’s all the way awake now.

“Okay, Dawn. What do you wanna do today?” Buffy asks unenthusiastically ten minutes later, when they’re all gathered in Willow and Dawn’s room. Faith sits down on Dawn’s bed and closes her eyes, hoping to catch another precious minute of sleep.

Dawn claps her hands. “I want to try a gondola ride, first of all. Then I want to visit the Glass Museum and the Palace Museum and Saint Mark’s Square, and there’s this bridge that looks really cool, and…” 

Buffy glances at Willow. “You had to buy her the guidebook, huh.”

“Sorry,” Willow says, offering her an apologetic smile. “But, but the Palace Museum does look cool. And I’m pretty sure that some of the stuff there used to belong to witches, and…”

“Great,” Faith sighs. “We’ve got two giddy tourist nerds on our hands. Let’s get this over with.” She slides her sunglasses on and heads for the door, and the others follow.

Ten minutes later they’re sitting in a gondola, Faith and Buffy in the back and Dawn and Willow in the front. The gondolier steers them along while pointing out a bunch of probably important landmarks and talking in rapid-fire Italian, but Faith isn’t interested. The sun is warm and she’s still sleepy, so she closes her eyes and relaxes, and when she leans her head on Buffy’s shoulder, Buffy doesn’t pull away.

//

The day is filled with more museums and bridges and gift shops than Faith has ever wanted to see in her life, but by nine o’clock that night she’s sitting across a candlelit table from Buffy at an outdoor restaurant next to the Grand Canal, and all of the paintings and vendors and cheap Italian souvenirs were worth it.

“This is a pretty nice restaurant,” Buffy says, flipping through the wine list. Her expression turns to a frown. “I have no idea how to pronounce any of these words.”

“Just ask for water then,” Faith smirks. She leans back in her chair and Buffy reaches out to smack her on the leg. “Don’t you even think about putting those feet on the table, Faith,” she warns. “I’ll push you into the canal.”

Faith gives her a lazy smile. “You got it, B.” 

They sit there quietly for a few minutes, looking through their menus and watching as the boats pass by on the canal. Faith looks at Buffy over the top of her menu, admiring the way her hair shines like polished gold in the light of the candles. She wonders what Buffy’s thinking right now. Not about her, that’s for sure.

Faith stretches out a hand for the bread basket and realizes with a shock that Buffy’s hand is already resting there. She hesitates for a moment and then lets her hand drop to the table, resting on Buffy’s. Buffy looks surprised, but she doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t take her hand away.

Oh. 

Buffy’s eyes flick upwards to meet Faith’s and they look at each other for a minute, Buffy smiling softly and Faith trying hard not to blush. They’re literally waiting for a demon to come down the canal with a kidnapped girl and Faith knows that she shouldn’t be thinking like this right now, but _goddamn_ this feels like a date. 

She can’t help wondering what it would be like if they were to go on a real date, no emergencies and no missions, nothing but her and Buffy and an unhurried night spent together.

A waiter appears over Buffy’s shoulder and she yanks her hand away from Faith’s like it was on fire. “Uh, hi. Can we order?”

“Of course,” the waiter says, and Faith watches Buffy order, feeling disappointed that she pulled her hand back like that. She hadn’t really been expecting any less, but it would have been nice.

“And for you, madam?” the waiter asks, and Faith realizes that she has no idea what to order. “Uh, can I get a pizza?” she asks, and the waiter frowns. 

“Yes, madam,” he says stiffly. “As you wish.” He collects their menus and walks away. Faith frowns after him. “Yo, what’s that dude’s deal? He’s acting like I asked for a severed head or something.”

“Well, you asked for pizza,” Buffy says. “He probably thinks you’re a total tourist.”

“What? How the hell does that work? They literally invented pizza here.”

Buffy shrugs. “Beats me.” She smiles at Faith, and it’s so pretty that it makes Faith’s head spin. “At least you didn’t order a Coke too.”

“I will when he gets back,” Faith promises. 

Buffy starts playing with her napkin. Faith watches her folding and refolding the fabric and wishes she was brave enough to hold her hand again.

“Do you think we’ll be okay tonight?” Buffy asks quietly. “I mean, we’re not exactly sure what we’re up against.”

Faith snorts. “We literally faced the incarnation of evil and an army of demonic hellspawn two months ago. I think we can handle one greedy demon.”

Buffy laughs. “Okay, well it sounds ridiculous when you put it that way.”

“So don’t worry,” Faith says. “We’re good.” 

The waiter comes back then, setting two plates of steaming food on the table in front of them. Faith’s dish has a giant margherita pizza with wood burned crust and fresh mozzarella, and she inhales the cheesy and tomatoey smell blissfully. 

“Thanks, man,” she says to the waiter. “Know what would make it even better next time? Pepperoni and a side of fries.” The man grimaces at her and bows to them before he walks away, shooting Faith a sharp look over his shoulder.

Faith rips off a giant slice of pizza and stuffs it in her mouth. Buffy picks up her fork and starts twirling strands of pasta around it. Faith watches her affectionately, and thinks about what Willow said. 

_We all deserve a second chance, and I think you have one with Buffy._

Fuck it, Faith thinks. She may as well give it a try. She swallows her mouthful of pizza and reaches across the table to touch Buffy’s free hand. Buffy looks up at her expectantly, and Faith takes a deep breath. “B, can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” Buffy says. “What is it?”

Faith’s throat feels like it’s closing up. God, this is hard. She’d rather face the First Evil again than do this. Dropping into the Hellmouth was a piece of cake compared to talking about her feelings. “See, I just...well, I talked to Willow about something the other day, right. And I, well, I wanted to ask you if, um…”

The sound of a revving engine distracts her, and she looks over to see a gondola fitted with a small motor moving through the canal next to them. There’s a tall guy standing in the boat, and a small figure sitting by the bow, but the guy doesn't look any human she's ever seen, unless he has some kind of horrible skin condition that gives him _scales_. Realization hits in a flash. 

“It’s them,” she says. “They’re passing us. Come on.”

Buffy nods and they’re on their feet in an instant, abandoning their half-eaten food and sprinting down the side of the canal after the boat. The streets and sidewalks are crowded, and more than once Faith has to shove some poor tourist or vendor out of the way.

“This isn’t working,” Buffy shouts. “They’re going to lose us.”

“Not if we can help it,” Faith replies. Her eyes dart left and right, looking for something they can use, and her gaze lands on an unmanned gondola tied to the bank. “Come on, let’s take that.” 

Buffy stalls for a moment. “It’s not ours, though.”

“So we’ll return it,” Faith says. She’s already climbing on board and grabbing the punting pole. “Get in, B.” 

Buffy leaps into the gondola and Faith starts moving them forwards, following the other boat.

“This is too much work,” she grumbles. “How come the demon gets a motor?”

“Less talking, more poling,” Buffy says. “They’re getting away.” 

“Let’s see you try paddling with a goddamn pole,” Faith mutters, but she starts poking the pole down faster. 

Up ahead, the boat in front of them stops at a set of stone steps. The demon gets out and ties a rope to a ring in the wall and then grabs the girl, slings her over its shoulder like a bag of potatoes, and disappears into an alley.

Faith steers their boat over to the steps and she and Buffy jump out. There’s no time to tie up the boat, so Faith lets it go and hopes that it somehow drifts back to its owner. They follow the demon down the alley, walking swiftly but silently.

The demon stops and knocks on the door of a shabby looking building, then walks inside. Faith looks at Buffy. “Should we look for a back door or somethin’?”

“Nah.” 

“Was hoping you’d say that.” 

They walk up to the door and kick through it at the same time, sending dust and shards of wood flying everywhere. As Faith steps carefully through the gaping hole, she looks around the room she’s now in and sees that there are at least a dozen vampires standing there, forming a circle around the girl. The demon that brought her there is sitting in a corner, sniffing a stack of euros.

“Hey, guys,” Buffy says. “I think our invitations to the party got lost in the mail. Mind if we come in anyway?”

The vampires stop and stare for a moment, and then they charge. Faith and Buffy grin at each other and get ready to fight. 

The vamps in Italy must be too busy buying designer clothes to practice fighting, because Faith easily shreds five of them within the first minute. She flips a sixth into the ruined door, where he lands on a large splinter of wood and promptly dissolves. Buffy kicks one of them so hard that his head comes off, and stakes another two with a quick back-and-forth motion. The last three turn into dust as she picks up a piece of the door and throws it through all of them at once.

“Well, that was fun,” Faith says cheerfully, walking over to the demon in the corner. He’s an ugly one, with a scaly face and two horns and sharp teeth, and he looks terrified at the sight of her. “Here’s a tip, douchebag. Don’t try running off with our girls before we train them to kill freaks like you.” She pulls out a knife and stabs him in the chest, and he dissolves into a small pile of white rubble. 

Buffy crouches down next to the girl, whose hands are tied, and speaks to her gently. “Emma, right?”

“How’d you know my name?” the girl whispers, her voice tired but her tone defensive. God, she’s _tiny_. She’s probably ten years old at most. Faith feels a sharp pain in her chest from looking at her; she knows exactly what it’s like to be a kid who’s living a nightmare, too scared to trust anyone who promised a better life.

“I’m Buffy, and this is Faith. We’re the Slayers. We’ve come to take you home.”

“I’d like that,” Emma mumbles, closing her eyes. Buffy picks her up, turning to Faith. “We’ll have to carry her,” she says softly. “I think she’s worn out.”

“Okay,” Faith says, feeling a soft aching in her chest now as she looks at Buffy carrying this little girl. “Let’s go.”

//

They take the train home the next day, Emma sitting between Dawn and Willow, all three of them napping while leaning against each other. Faith and Buffy watch them from the other side of the carriage and share a smile.

“So what’s the verdict on Venice?” Buffy asks. “Ready to make it our designated vacation city?” 

“Only if you paddle the gondola next time.”

Buffy laughs, and as the sun streams in through the windows of the train, this time she’s the one to rest her head on Faith’s shoulder.

//

Xander picks them up at the station and Faith is surprised at how happy she is to be heading home, even though they’ve only been gone a couple days. She guesses that this is a sign that the Slayer house really is her home now, even if it still doesn't quite feel like it. 

She draws the line at being glad to see Xander though, so she taps him on the eyepatch and makes a pirate joke when she gets into the car, and smirks at his resigned expression.

Emma stares out the view outside the window like it’s a flatscreen TV, and as they accelerate up the driveway of the house, her mouth actually falls open.

“You guys live here?” she asks in awe, opening the van door and jumping out onto the gravel. “Are you magic or something?”

“Well, I am,” Willow offers as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “Let’s go get you settled in. You can meet the others and I’ll find you a snack.”

“I’m gonna go take a nap,” Faith says to Buffy. “I’m kind of beat.”

“Oh.” Buffy says. “Okay.” And Faith could be imagining it, but she swears that Buffy almost looks disappointed.

//

Faith is a lot more tired than she thought, because she ends up sleeping through the rest of the day and well into the night. When she wakes up it’s early morning, the sun just starting to rise, and the house is silent. She throws on some fresh clothes and goes downstairs to find a snack.

There’s a giant jar of Nutella in the kitchen that’s labelled “Andrew’s. Please do not eat” so she grabs a knife and starts spreading it on some baguette pieces. She slices up an apple and adds that to the plate, and looks around to see what else is available.

“Early breakfast, huh?” Buffy asks, and Faith jumps. She hadn’t even noticed that Buffy was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter. 

“Hey, B,” she says, waiting for her heartbeat to return to a normal pace. “You’re up early.” 

“So are you,” Buffy points out. “Want to go sit on the terrace steps?”

Faith’s stomach suddenly feels like a flock of butterflies are using it as a dance floor, but she nods as casually as she can and picks up her plate, following Buffy out the doors.

//

“Stop hoarding the Nutella,” Buffy says, snatching a slice of chocolate-spread baguette off of Faith’s plate and shoving it in her mouth. Faith holds the plate close to her chest, pretending to be offended. “Go get your own food.”

“I will,” Buffy says. “Don’t test me. I’ll go in there right now and finish that chocolate cereal you like.”

Faith grabs her wrist.“Don’t you dare,” she says with a teasing smile.

Buffy looks down at Faith’s hand on her arm, and then back up at Faith’s face. “Okay,” she says quietly. “I won’t.” 

Faith lets go of her arm then, sensing the change in mood, but Buffy moves over so that they’re sitting right next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. “Hey, Faith?”

“Yeah?"

“Are you going to finish asking me that question you had last night?”

Faith sees that Buffy’s face is earnest and open, not a trace of teasing, and knows that she has to say it. She bites her lip and god, this is even harder now than it was last night.

“I, uh. Well,” she says, fully aware of the fact that she’s unable to finish her sentences. Goddamn, she’s never been nervous over someone like this in her life before.

Then again, she’s never loved anyone the way she loves Buffy either.

 _Loved_? Oh, no.

“Just say it,” Buffy says. “I’m right here.” 

Faith looks at her, blonde and beautiful, her green eyes patient as she waits for Faith to finish talking, and gives up on ever being able to form a sentence that will accurately convey her feelings. Instead, she leans forward and kisses Buffy gently.

Buffy responds instantly, moving forward until she’s practically sitting in Faith’s lap and bringing her hands up to the sides of Faith’s face. The kiss continues for a long moment until Faith is finally forced to pull away so she can breathe.

“You still haven’t finished your question,” Buffy says, and _now_ she’s teasing, one corner of her mouth curling up into a soft smile.“Then again, you never were great with words.” 

Faith sighs and pushes a strand of Buffy’s hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I know. But hey, there’s much better things I can do with my mouth anyway.”

Buffy starts to laugh, and Faith cuts it short by pressing her lips to Buffy’s again.

Many kisses later, Buffy leans contentedly against Faith’s shoulder, sliding her hand into Faith’s and tangling their fingers together. “I can’t believe it took you this long,” she says.

“Hey,” Faith says. “I tried to ask you out before, like, four years ago. It’s not my fault you didn’t pick up on it.”

“You did?”

“Well, we were on patrol and I asked if you wanted to get ribs afterwards.”

Buffy arches an eyebrow and Faith sighs. “Okay, okay, so it wasn’t that obvious.”

“Try _completely imperceptible_ ,” Buffy says. “But still, we’re here now. Better late than never.” 

Faith squeezes her hand gently. “Better late than never,” she agrees. Buffy smiles at her in that way that Faith has loved since they were seventeen, and as the sun rises over the horizon, she leans in for another kiss. Faith happily reciprocates, feeling every dream that she’s ever had coming true right then and there.

Buffy pulls back. “Hey, how mad do you think Andrew would be if we ate the rest of his Nutella.” 

“Furious, probably.” 

“So you wanna do it?”

“Let’s go.”

Buffy stands up and pulls Faith to her feet. They walk to the kitchen hand in hand, Faith feeling happier than she has in years.

//

“God, you two are sickening,” Kennedy says. 

They’re sitting around in the poolside lounge chairs, everyone in the house having flocked there to wait while Xander cooks up some barbecue. Andrew is hovering over Xander’s shoulder, and Giles is sitting in a faded fold-out chair next to them, with Dawn at his side. The pool is full of girls yelling and splashing each other, and there’s classic rock music playing from an old radio next to the grill. 

Faith feels like she’s at the family cookout that she never had growing up. She could get to like this. 

“Seriously,” Kennedy continues. “Will and I aren’t this bad, are we?” She gestures to Faith and Buffy, who are squeezed into the same chair, arms wrapped around each others’ shoulders.

Faith eyes Kennedy doubtfully. “Please. B and I are nothing compared to you guys. Remember when we found you two on the couch and you were - ”

“Okay,” Willow interrupts. “I’m going to go see how Xander’s doing with the food.” She gets up and walks over to Xander, leaving Faith and Buffy alone with Kennedy. 

Buffy gives Faith a look and Faith instantly understands what she’s saying. That Slayer connection comes in real handy sometimes. They get out of their chair and walk over to Kennedy’s, crossing their arms and looking down at her. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Kennedy says. “What are you do- ” The rest of her sentence is cut off as Buffy and Faith grab her arms, one on each side, and pick her up, flinging her into the pool. She hits the surface with a loud splash, and drops of water scatter everywhere as the other girls quickly move out of her way.

“Justice is served,” Faith smirks, sitting down in her chair again. Buffy sits down too, climbing on top of her, and for once Faith doesn’t care about who’s on top.

“So,” Buffy says, lightly running her hand through Faith’s hair, “have you changed your mind about not doing relationships yet?”

Faith playfully taps her finger against her chin thoughtfully. “No, but there is this one girl who’s making me think about it.”

“Asshole,” Buffy says affectionately. 

“Okay, okay,” Faith admits. “Yeah, I changed my mind. Happy?”

“Very,” Buffy says, smiling. 

“Hey guys, barbecue is ready,” Xander calls to them. Buffy pokes Faith to get her up. “Let’s go before all the wings are gone.”

Faith and Buffy walk over to the grill. As they wait to get food, Faith looks around at her surroundings and takes a quiet moment to appreciate them. She’s holding Buffy’s hand next to the pool of the house that they own in the countryside of Italy, and they’re surrounded by girls who they’ll teach to become the future, and it’s a perfect summer night with food on the grill and her friends all around her. 

Faith looks around and thinks about everything she has now, and knows that she’s finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/thymewars)


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